Noro
by OukamiYasha
Summary: One-shot songfic, Nick/Ellis slash. There's no such thing as a peaceful sleep during the zombie apocalypse.


**Yeah sooo I posted this on the NickxEllis community on Livejournal, but I suck at posting so the whole dang fic appeared immediately on everyone's thread instead of just a link and I'm sure they hate me now. lol. More Left 4 Dead 2 nonsense, written in about an hour and set to the song "Noro" by Brand New. **

**It's super depressing. Ye were warned.**

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_Little light, lead us through the night._

_If we die, burn down the forest._

The forest is dry though the air hangs heavy with humidity; with the beam of yellow from his flashlight, Nick can see the tinder-ready bark of the trees, he can feel beneath his feet the brittle skin of dead leaves. The night sky is blotted out by tree canopies, their leaves black against the indigo expanse and shuddering softly in the wind.

_Chariots, carry us_

_Distances we don't care to walk._

They'd like to move silently, but it's impossible in this place, and doubly impossible with Ellis tagging along. The Infected catch sight and sound of them often, resulting in a lowered morale for the four-person team. Coach has suffered a bad gash to the head and blood drips into his eyes. Every now and again he wipes it off, but it seems he's mostly just trying to ignore it. They push on despite their wounds.

_I'm on my way to hell_

_I'm on my way to hell_

Then they find themselves in a clearing with a little shack and it brings Nick no peace at all.

_Why doesn't anyone I know sleep?_

_Are they all just scared of their dreams?_

Out of the four of them, Nick and Coach have had the least trouble getting to sleep. It could have something to do with them being older, in fact, Nick is pretty sure that's what it is. Rochelle has the habit of laying down to sleep, then ending up just staring at the ceiling with her brown eyes wide and glassy with memories.

Ellis is even worse in that he doesn't even try to sleep. He volunteers to keep watch, to clean the guns, to take stock of their supplies, anything to keep from going to sleep. His trademark whine of "I ain't tired or _nothin_'!" is heard every night, but eventually he must go to sleep, and he does.

_When they lay their heads down at night_

_What are they haunted by?_

Tonight Ellis' sleep is especially fitful. Nick has seen him writhe and cry in his sleep before, but nothing like this. The boy sobs and groans and jerks his limbs erratically as if fending off some hovering demon. He moans the names of loved ones, and Nick wonders what it's like to have someone to miss.

If it causes this much agony, he's glad he has no attachments.

_Why won't anyone just close their eyes?_

_Could it hurt them to rest for a while?_

_Do they need a friend to be a lover_

_Or a lover to be a friend?_

He wakes up Ellis on the pretense of being sick of the boy's crying. Though his face is wet and slick with tears, Ellis insists he isn't crying, it's not a manly thing to do. But he does lean against Nick, resting his tired head against the older man's chest and Nick holds him, because god it feels good to have a little human contact in this hellhole of a world they live in.

And somehow they end up on the floor, with Ellis kissing him and grabbing desperately at his clothes and crying silently at the same time. The mechanic's tears burn on Nick's face. Nick had forgotten how hot tears are. He hasn't cried since high school.

They make an unspoken deal that Nick will fulfill Ellis' need for human contact, for some sort of love, and Ellis will let Nick own him fully, his heart and soul and body. They move and moan in the darkness, and Coach and Rochelle are awake now but they don't care enough to say anything. It's been almost a month and a half of this sick survival game and they're all running on empty.

_Because I'm on my way to hell_

_Well I try, God knows that I try_

_I'm on my way to hell_

_One time, two time, three times again._

The game is getting harder to play, and they all know it. They clamber over the rocky trail, trying in vain to escape the huge creature pursuing them. "Goddamn, they're getting' stronger!" Coach yells and fires a volley of bullets into the thing's face before being hurled backwards into a loose boulder.

Rochelle and Nick and Ellis run forward to help but the two men slip; the gravelly pathway is slick with foul-smelling liquids from the butchered Infected. Rochelle makes it to Coach's side only to be slammed in the gut with a huge fist. She looks like she is screaming, but no sound is coming out.

_Sitting duck, running out of luck_

_And our car's stuck on the train crossing._

Ellis makes it up first, red gravel blasting out from under his feet as he hurls himself forward with an ax, burying it deep into the back of the Tank's shoulders. The thing roars in pain and snatches up Ellis by a leg, twirling him around in the air like a lasso before letting him loose and sending him crashing into a pile of rubble.

Nick has righted himself and fires blast after blast point-blank into the Tank's face as it charges toward him. He closes his eyes and braces himself for the hit, but the huge Infected stops and falls before him, finally beaten.

_How am I ever gonna know peace?_

_How will I ever see the light through the trees?_

The other three are in bad shape. Coach won't wake up and bleeds heavily from a wound on the back of his head. Rochelle's pelvic bone has been smashed, she gasps for air and her mouth works silently up and down, like a fish's. Nick manages to pull Ellis out of the rubble. The boy's leg has been snapped, a great sliver of bone juts red and glutinous from a gash in his coveralls. He's pale and trembling but he smiles.

"Y-you took that Tank down good, h-huh Nick?" he asks, and coughs up blood.

_I wanna burn down everything we've begun_

_I wanna kill and eat my young_

A tremendous noise, a howl from a hundred different sources, echoes through the air and reminds Nick they are not alone, they are never alone. He stares down at his team and knows there is no way they can fight, and no way he can get them to safety.

Rochelle has passed out, but Ellis still shivers and moans and tries desperately not to look at his mangled leg but instead sets his blue-eyed gaze up at Nick, mouth twisted in a grimace that's trying to be a smile.

"I always thought we made a right damn good team," he chokes in a strangled voice.

There are more howls, more shrieks, coming closer and closer.

Nick knows there's nothing more he can do, and runs. Ellis stares after him, then sweeps his head to the other direction where the black cloud of Infected are amassing from all directions and streaming toward them. His vision goes blurry and the Infected seem to him like a familiar ink blot.

Black leaves, shuddering in the wind.

_Because I'm on my way to hell_

_Well I try, God knows that I try_

_I'm on my way to hell_

_One time, two time, three times again._

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**End**


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